His thoughts are becoming more and more unpredictable. I blow out a breath and turn my back to the water, rinsing the conditioner out of my hair. “I’m not sure what you mean, Asa.”
When the conditioner is rinsed from my hair, I glance over at him. He’s staring down at the tub, at the water circling the drain. “There used to be so many people here, all day every day, all night. Now it’s just like four or five people, unless I have a party.”
It’s because you’re unpredictable and you fucking scare people, Asa.
“Maybe they’re all just busy?”
His eyes flick up to mine. They’re still full of confusion. A little disappointment. I don’t know a lot about drugs, or what it’s like coming down from them, but paranoia may be a withdrawal symptom. I hope so, because otherwise, I’m not sure what to make of this version of Asa.
“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe they’re just busy. Or they aren’t and they just want me to think they are. Because everyone fucking pretends around here.”
His words are harsh, but his voice is calm, still with a hint of confusion. I’m praying he’s not referring to Carter when he says everyone pretends.
Or referring to me.
I need to warn Carter. Something just isn’t right with him today. I’ve never been scared for my life like I was when Asa pulled me back inside the house. I’m tempted to not tell Carter about what happened because I know he’ll be upset that I confronted him alone.
“We should invite a few people over for dinner tonight. Will you cook?”
I nod. “For how many people?”
He doesn’t even hesitate with the answer he spits out. “Me, you, Jon, Dalton, Kevin and Carter. I want the food ready at seven o’clock. I’ll text them now.”
He closes the shower curtain.
What the hell is wrong with him?
I blow out a steady breath and grab the washcloth. I’m scrubbing the heels of my feet when he opens the shower curtain again. When I look into his eyes, he’s still shockingly looking at my face and nothing else. He opens his mouth, closes it and then pauses for two seconds before, “Are you mad at me, Sloan?”
Is that a trick question?
I fucking loathe you, Asa.
I gauge his expression and then reply with, “I’m not very happy with you.”
He sighs, and then nods like he doesn’t blame me. Now I really know something is wrong with him. “I shouldn’t have lied to you about your brother’s benefits. Sometimes I think I could treat you better than I do.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Then why don’t you?”
His eyes narrow with a slight tilt of his head, like he’s actually contemplating my question. “I don’t know how.”
He closes the shower curtain.
The bathroom door slams shut.
My arm clenches my stomach, because I feel like I might puke. Everything he does makes me so nervous to be around him. After that weird conversation, it’s increased tenfold.
Thank God he’s inviting everyone over tonight, because I really don’t want to be alone with him. I need Carter to be here.
I’m about to turn off the water when the bathroom door reopens. Seconds later, the shower curtain opens from the opposite end this time. My hand freezes on the knob when I hear him step inside the shower.
No, no, no. Please don’t make me have sex with you again. I breathe in calmly through my nose, hoping he’s just waiting for his turn in the shower.
A few seconds pass, but I don’t feel him step up behind me. He doesn’t say anything. My heart is beating so fast, I get lightheaded.
I straighten up and slowly turn around. His white t-shirt is soaked through and he still has his jeans on. He’s leaning against the back wall of the shower, barefoot, staring down at the tub.
I wait a moment to see what he wants. When he fails to move or speak-he just keeps staring at nothing-I finally speak up.
The fear cracks the sound of my voice when I say, “What are you doing, Asa?”
My question breaks him out of his trance. His eyes flick up to mine. He stares for approximately five painstakingly long seconds, and then he looks around the shower and back down at his clothes. He runs his hands over them like he has no idea why they’re wet. He shakes his head and says, “I don’t fucking know.”
My knees grow weak at his reaction. I don’t even turn off the water. I step out of the shower as fast as I can and grab a towel. I don’t even bother getting dressed before swinging open the door to run to the bedroom. I just need to stay as far away from him as I can until Carter gets here and I know I’ll be a little safer.
When the conditioner is rinsed from my hair, I glance over at him. He’s staring down at the tub, at the water circling the drain. “There used to be so many people here, all day every day, all night. Now it’s just like four or five people, unless I have a party.”
It’s because you’re unpredictable and you fucking scare people, Asa.
“Maybe they’re all just busy?”
His eyes flick up to mine. They’re still full of confusion. A little disappointment. I don’t know a lot about drugs, or what it’s like coming down from them, but paranoia may be a withdrawal symptom. I hope so, because otherwise, I’m not sure what to make of this version of Asa.
“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe they’re just busy. Or they aren’t and they just want me to think they are. Because everyone fucking pretends around here.”
His words are harsh, but his voice is calm, still with a hint of confusion. I’m praying he’s not referring to Carter when he says everyone pretends.
Or referring to me.
I need to warn Carter. Something just isn’t right with him today. I’ve never been scared for my life like I was when Asa pulled me back inside the house. I’m tempted to not tell Carter about what happened because I know he’ll be upset that I confronted him alone.
“We should invite a few people over for dinner tonight. Will you cook?”
I nod. “For how many people?”
He doesn’t even hesitate with the answer he spits out. “Me, you, Jon, Dalton, Kevin and Carter. I want the food ready at seven o’clock. I’ll text them now.”
He closes the shower curtain.
What the hell is wrong with him?
I blow out a steady breath and grab the washcloth. I’m scrubbing the heels of my feet when he opens the shower curtain again. When I look into his eyes, he’s still shockingly looking at my face and nothing else. He opens his mouth, closes it and then pauses for two seconds before, “Are you mad at me, Sloan?”
Is that a trick question?
I fucking loathe you, Asa.
I gauge his expression and then reply with, “I’m not very happy with you.”
He sighs, and then nods like he doesn’t blame me. Now I really know something is wrong with him. “I shouldn’t have lied to you about your brother’s benefits. Sometimes I think I could treat you better than I do.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Then why don’t you?”
His eyes narrow with a slight tilt of his head, like he’s actually contemplating my question. “I don’t know how.”
He closes the shower curtain.
The bathroom door slams shut.
My arm clenches my stomach, because I feel like I might puke. Everything he does makes me so nervous to be around him. After that weird conversation, it’s increased tenfold.
Thank God he’s inviting everyone over tonight, because I really don’t want to be alone with him. I need Carter to be here.
I’m about to turn off the water when the bathroom door reopens. Seconds later, the shower curtain opens from the opposite end this time. My hand freezes on the knob when I hear him step inside the shower.
No, no, no. Please don’t make me have sex with you again. I breathe in calmly through my nose, hoping he’s just waiting for his turn in the shower.
A few seconds pass, but I don’t feel him step up behind me. He doesn’t say anything. My heart is beating so fast, I get lightheaded.
I straighten up and slowly turn around. His white t-shirt is soaked through and he still has his jeans on. He’s leaning against the back wall of the shower, barefoot, staring down at the tub.
I wait a moment to see what he wants. When he fails to move or speak-he just keeps staring at nothing-I finally speak up.
The fear cracks the sound of my voice when I say, “What are you doing, Asa?”
My question breaks him out of his trance. His eyes flick up to mine. He stares for approximately five painstakingly long seconds, and then he looks around the shower and back down at his clothes. He runs his hands over them like he has no idea why they’re wet. He shakes his head and says, “I don’t fucking know.”
My knees grow weak at his reaction. I don’t even turn off the water. I step out of the shower as fast as I can and grab a towel. I don’t even bother getting dressed before swinging open the door to run to the bedroom. I just need to stay as far away from him as I can until Carter gets here and I know I’ll be a little safer.
